The Division remained at Sarpi Camp, Mudros, until the middle of January. Gallipoli had left the body weak and the spirit dulled; every unit was much below strength, and most had less than half, and some barely a quarter, of their full establishment. Death, wounds and sickness had played havoc with the organization, and squad, platoon, and company drills disclosed the fact that the men had lost much of their barrack-square smartness, but drills and exercises, guards and pickets soon put an edge on the dulled blade. The weather was not particularly good, but the decent tents, the thorough and much-needed wash, the immunity from shell and rifle fire, the freedom to walk upright, to take exercise and play games, the arrival of six weeks’ mail, the canteens, the unfailing interest in the shipping that went in and out of the great natural harbour daily, all combined to promote content and happiness.

On January 13 the advance parties and the 5th and 6th Lancashire Fusiliers sailed on H.M.S. Mars to Alexandria, and then proceeded to Mena, where they took over a large canvas camp and prepared it for the reception of the Division. The 126th Brigade, the greater part of the R.F.A. and other details embarked on January 14, but the weather at Mudros grew worse, and the order to embark the 127th Brigade was received in the early hours of a morning of violent storm, during which tents were blown down in some camps and the men drenched. In the murky half-light of dawn camps were struck, and companies moved off in a driving hurricane of hail and sleet. Some boarded a tug, packed so that they could not even turn their backs to the stinging hail, and were taken “joy-rides” round the great harbour in unsuccessful search for their troopship, were landed, and again embarked, transferred to a cattle-boat to be lodged and boarded on biscuits and bully-beef for five days, and then transferred to the right transport. Others marched through the quagmires across half the breadth of Lemnos and embarked at North Pier, and, indeed, some pessimists are convinced that they marched three times round the island. An improvement in the weather soon restored cheerfulness, and with a light heart the remainder of the 42nd Division left Mudros, the last link with Gallipoli, on the morning of the 18th of January.

Alexandria was reached in about forty-eight hours; thence by train to Cairo and by road to Mena, where the Division settled down in camp near the Pyramids of Gizeh. There the 2nd (Manchester) Brigade, R.F.A., the ammunition columns, the A.S.C. train, and other details which had been left behind in Alexandria, or had subsequently arrived from England, were re-united to the Division. For the past eight months the A.S.C. had been employed on local transport work, and had supplied drafts for No. 2 Company at Helles, for the A.S.C. in Salonika, the expedition in the western desert against the Senussi, the transport camps at Mudros, and a small detachment had been sent to Suvla Bay. “A” Squadron, D.L.O.Y., which had also taken part in the fighting against the Senussi, rejoined the Division a few weeks later. The show-places of Egypt were new to a large proportion of officers and men, who made the most of what opportunities were afforded to see them. Happy recollections of the autumn of 1914 were revived by the others, and also memories of good friends and comrades whose shallow graves lie thick in Helles. On the whole these were pleasant days of recuperation, but the Division did not long enjoy the flesh-pots of Egypt—if that term may be stretched to include the French teas and ices at Groppi’s and similar delights. Orders were received to move to Tel-el-Kebir, but after a few units had arrived there the destination was changed to Shallufa, a few miles north of Suez, the Division concentrating in a camp in the desert east of the Canal during the last days of January and the first days of February.

The Division now formed part of the 9th Corps, commanded by Lieut.-General Sir Julian Byng, whose Headquarters were at Suez. Soon after the arrival of the Division the command of the 9th Corps passed to Lieut.-General Sir Francis Davies, and Brig.-General V. A. Ormsby succeeded Brig.-General G. S. Elliott in command of the 127th Brigade. The Division was now equipped for the first time with pukka first-line transport vehicles, and the field-kitchens were a much-appreciated novelty. The advance-parties at Shallufa had had their fill of hard work, for the stores had to be taken across the Canal and man-handled up the steep banks. For a short period in the early morning and late evening the Canal could be crossed by a pontoon bridge built by the Australians, but during the greater part of the day the crossing had to be made by means of a stage hauled across by a chain which lay on the bed of the Canal. This stage often carried a motley collection of troops, natives, camels, and stores, and the hauling was heavy work, which, at a later period, was relegated to Field Punishment prisoners from the Divisional Compound. The Engineers who were in this region in the winter of 1914-1915 found that little had changed. There had been insignificant enemy raids, and no new works of importance had been carried out. At Kubri the swing-bridge, made of lighters fifteen months previously by Major Wells—to last a few months, according to his instructions—was still working, and as the chesses wore out they were covered with filled sandbags, so that the progress of animal traffic over the bridge partook of the nature of a steeplechase. The Divisional Band paid a series of visits to the units, and it was surely the first time that these sandhills had echoed with waltz music and the airs of musical comedy. On such occasions the troops made quite a happy picture, for the strain of Gallipoli had almost worn off, and the men, now bronzed to a ripe saddle-colour, danced and laughed and sang, and a more cheerful and contented set of fellows could hardly be imagined.

The Canal defences had hitherto been on the west bank, with bridgeheads on the east bank, close to the Canal. It was recognized that the Canal must be defended from the eastern side, so a line of self-contained works was constructed in the desert, far enough out to prevent the enemy from bringing guns into action within seven miles of the waterway. Behind these first-line posts was a series of supporting works, while bridgeheads on the Canal formed the third line. In each section of the defence a mobile force was held in readiness for counter-offence. The posts were connected by telephone with the Brigade Headquarters and with one another. Visual signalling was also largely used by the Divisional Signal Company, the heliograph being of great service for long distances in this land of brilliant sunshine. In due course roads and light railways were run out to the posts, and three-inch water-pipes were laid. The posts were named after the depot towns of battalions, but, owing to subsequent reliefs, the units did not as a rule occupy those named after their depots. Each post had a garrison of, approximately, a battalion of infantry, a battery of artillery, a troop of yeomanry, and a section of engineers. The Transport of the 42nd Divisional Train was left at Alexandria, where its services would be more useful than in the desert, the Supply accompanying the Division to the Canal zone and in subsequent operations.

The Field State of February 29 shows a considerable increase in the strength of the Divisional Artillery, and that various units had been attached.

Later the Divisional Squadron of the D.L.O. Yeomanry rejoined the Division, and the 3rd Dismounted Brigade, mainly Yeomanry, was also attached.

It is unnecessary to refer to the importance of the Suez Canal, not merely to the commerce of the Empire, but also to the policy and strategy of the Allies. But it may be well to explain here, very briefly and roughly, the general situation so far as it affected the defence of this main communication between East and West. Prior to the outbreak of war there were British frontier posts in Sinai as far east as El Arish on the coast about ninety miles due east of Port Said, and more than a hundred miles by road from the Canal. The sole purpose of these posts was to supervise and regulate traffic between Egypt and the Turkish Empire, and as such traffic automatically ceased on the outbreak of war with Turkey, the handful of troops was withdrawn. The invasion of Gallipoli had compelled the Turks to abandon for a time any idea they may have entertained of conquering Egypt. Now, at the beginning of 1916, although the withdrawal of the Allies from the Dardanelles and the entry of Bulgaria into the war on the side of her ancient enemy had set free a large Turkish army for employment in Asia, the situation had not greatly changed. The heavy losses sustained in Gallipoli had been a serious drain upon the finest troops of the Ottoman Empire; the Russians had entered Armenia victoriously, and it was not possible for Turkey to prepare and equip new armies to arrest the Russian progress and at the same time to cross the Desert of Sinai with any reasonable prospect of success. For, if the evacuation of Gallipoli had released a large Turkish force for offensive purposes, it had done no less for the British, and the conquest of Egypt was still a remote possibility only. But, as the Turks had been improving their communications through Palestine, there remained the probability that they might attempt to establish themselves in strength within striking distance of the Canal. They hoped that a successful attack here might bring about a rebellion in Egypt. While the Egyptians remained passive spectators there was no chance of a Turkish victory.

There are three routes by which a hostile force might approach the Canal.

(1) The northern caravan route along the coast through El Arish to Kantara, the route by which Joseph’s brethren, and later the Holy Family, and in more recent times Napoleon, had travelled from Palestine to Egypt.

(2) The central Hassana—Ismailia route.

(3) The southern Akaba—Suez route.

Lack of water along the greater part of the central and southern tracks renders them impracticable for any but a small, mobile, desert-bred force, and against raiding parties of this description the chain of posts under construction would be a sufficient defence. But the El Arish—Katia—Kantara route is of a different character. Oases are more numerous, and in the vicinity of Katia and Romani, within twenty miles of the Canal, wells are plentiful, and the water, though brackish, is drunk by animals, and to a certain extent by natives. No army, British or Turkish, could occupy this region until water-pipes and a railway had been laid, but the possibility of a rapid dash had to be provided against, so the system of defence on the northern route was extended to a point much farther east than was necessary in the central and southern sections, and it included the coast of the Bay of Tina and the water-bearing area around Katia and Romani.

Kantara was the base for this northern section, El Ferdan for the central, and Shallufa, where the 42nd Division was stationed during February and March, for the southern. Here trenches were dug and revetted with wooden frames and hurdles backed with canvas; miles of barbed-wire entanglements were put up; hutments of matting over wooden frames for mess and recreation, sun-proof standings for horses, and fly-proof larders were erected at the posts on the Canal banks. Gangs hauled the chain-ferry, and every one was kept steadily at work. In fact, the whole of the Canal zone for a hundred miles from Port Said to Suez has been described as a vast hive of workers; and the company humorist—who, by the way, always alluded to the desert as “the croft”—would ask plaintively: “Is it true, sir, that we’re staying here till we’ve got all the desert into sandbags?”

Water for men and animals was obtained from the Nile, via the Sweet Water Canal, which runs a few hundred yards west of the Suez Canal. Darius the Persian is credited with the construction of the Sweet Water Canal, which he used for transport between the Mediterranean and the Red Sea. After Actium the remnant of Cleopatra’s galleys took refuge therein. It fell into disuse for centuries, and was restored by de Lesseps as a water-supply for his workmen while the Suez Canal was under construction. There were filtering plants at all pumping stations, and as Nile water contains the parasite of the dreaded disease bilharziosis, there was a strict rule against bathing in the Nile or the Sweet Water Canal. Water for the troops was at first brought in barges from Suez and stored in tanks on both sides of the Suez Canal, being distributed by camel transport to the outposts in fanatis. A fantasse (plural, fanatis) is a stoppered flat box of zinc which holds from ten to twelve gallons and usually leaks a little. A camel carries a fantasse slung on either side. As the scheme grew the engineers laid a six-inch water-main across the desert, and thus the ancient prophecy that Palestine would never be freed from the Turkish yoke until Nile water flowed into it was fulfilled.

The third line of works was within easy walking distance of the Canal. It was good fun for the veterans of Gallipoli to bandy repartees from the water with the newly-trained drafts for India and Mesopotamia who, looking down upon them from the towering decks of big transports, asked when they were going to “do their bit,” instead of taking a seaside holiday at an Egyptian pleasure-resort. Much booty in the form of tins of cigarettes thrown by passengers on liners was gathered in by bold swimmers. The weather was cool, and, in spite of very strenuous labour in the loose sand, the stay at Shallufa was a pleasant holiday as compared with conditions in Gallipoli. The sandstorms of March were decidedly unpleasant, however, for the sand penetrated everywhere. To attempt to keep it out of food, equipment, clothing or lungs was quite futile, and a sandstorm would quickly fill the trenches that had been dug at the cost of several days’ steady labour. These sandstorms began with amazing regularity about midday and continued until 6 p.m. All cooking had to be done before or after these hours.

During the Shallufa period many officers and men returned to duty from hospital. These would feel that this record of the 42nd Division would be incomplete indeed were no reference made and no tribute paid to the founder and the workers of the admirable Convalescent Home at Alexandria, established in June, 1915, by Lady Douglas, whose solicitude for the welfare of all ranks under her husband’s command will be remembered with lasting gratitude by the Division. The hospital was supported by the units and by subscriptions from friends at home. In addition to the return of those who had been absent through wounds and sickness, units were further strengthened by small drafts from home—but numbers still remained much below strength. The Division was weakened by the return to England of time-expired Territorials, including a number of the best men. Two officers who had been in command of their units throughout the Gallipoli campaign also left the Shallufa camp for England in the spring of 1916—Lieut.-Colonel S. L. Tennant, R.E., on leave, and Major England, A.S.C., who left to take charge of the 66th Divisional Train, the duties of Senior Supply Officer devolving upon Captain A. Gillibrand.

The Artillery here received their 18-pounder guns—handed over by the 29th Division—and their training and reorganization were taken seriously in hand, with firing practice in the desert. The three Field Ambulances remained on the Canal bank, and when not engaged in training or in attending to the cases brought in on camels or by light railways from the desert posts, were able to enjoy the bathing in the Canal. Sick were conveyed by steam launch from Kabrit and Genefa to Shallufa, and many of the high-temperature cases were dipped and sponged in the cooling, refreshing water of the Salt Lake. The Division settled down to a diet of “ginger, spit, and polish,” the hard work, the swimming, games, sports, concerts—including a singing competition “for the championship of Asia”—proved wonderfully efficacious in restoring the vitality and the smartness of the Division after its long spell of trench life. Invariably, however, there is the man who has to acquire polish at the cost of much tribulation to himself and to his immediate superiors. There was, for instance, the sentry who failed to turn out the guard for the Divisional Commander. In excuse he explained: “Well, sir, I didn’t see at first that you were a Staff Colonel,” then, being of an amiable disposition, he leant forward and added in confidential tones: “You see, by rights I oughtn’t to be here at all. I’m the sanitary man!” It was felt that this man was not a success, either as sentry or diplomat.

During the last days of March and the first days of April, the Division left Shallufa to camp in the desert about two miles north-west of Suez. With the assistance of a Belgian contractor and native carpenters the infantry, under the supervision of the engineers, rapidly erected a large number of huts with double roofs of matting and also long lines of stables. A macadam road was made through the camp and was eventually extended to Kubri. A thorough course of company, battalion, and brigade training was carried out here, the physique and efficiency of the troops improving greatly in consequence. Much of this training was carried out in the desert west of Suez and along the ancient tower-marked road that leads to Cairo—the “far end” of the very road which had become so familiar to the Division in the first autumn and winter of the war. The machine-gun sections had constant practice; and it was here that the Brigade M.G. Companies took definite form as separate units. Emphasis was laid on the training of the young officer; and the offensive spirit was successfully fostered and stimulated. Once more it was proved that close-order drill and punctilious discipline, diversified and relieved by games and sports, formed the basis on which that military ideal must be built up. Rugby, soccer, hockey, and even donkey polo were played, and the Rugby team of the 5th Manchesters won great renown. Canteens now provided cigarettes, biscuits, chocolates, and other articles much appreciated by the troops. A Dramatic Society was formed, and plays specially written by Major G. B. Hurst were given at the “Theatre Royal.” The rehearsals and presentation gave great fun.

While at Suez the Artillery brigades and batteries were renamed. The 1st E.L. Brigade became the 210th Brigade, and the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th became the 211th, 212th, and 213th respectively, each having three four-gun batteries designated A, B, and C, with the exception of the 213th Brigade, which consisted of two howitzer batteries. After the Division left the Shallufa camp it was found that the defences there were not progressing with sufficient rapidity, and at the end of May the 7th and 8th Lancashire Fusiliers and the 127th Infantry Brigade were sent to Kubri and Shallufa to assist the 54th Division. In spite of the great heat, the Lancashire men, now more or less acclimatized, got through more in a few days than the recently arrived troops had accomplished in a month, and they received deserved praise from the G.O.C. of the section for their work at Manchester, Salford, Ashton, and other posts.

The heat in June was terrific, and a temperature of 120 degrees in the shade—the difficulty being to find the shade!—was normal, and on one or two occasions a midnight temperature of 105 degrees was registered. During this hot period the scouts and signallers of the 125th Brigade, while taking part in a training scheme, were sent out to the Ataka Hills, some seven or eight miles from camp, two parties operating as opposing forces. Movement among the hills proved more arduous than had been anticipated, and the men suffered much from the blazing sun—the rays being refracted by the rocks—and also from want of water. The greater part of them got back to camp with considerable difficulty. A Yeomanry patrol and an aeroplane were sent out on June 16, and parties of Arabs two days later, to look for the missing, and the bodies of two men who had died from heat and exhaustion were brought in. After this no training was permitted between the hours of 8.30 a.m. and 6 p.m. For the remaining ten hours of the day the average man could do little except lie, lightly clad, envying the Russians in the Caucasian snows, and dreaming of the invention or discovery of an ice-cold drink that could be produced in unlimited quantities even in a desert, and would remain unaffected by the temperature. But—

Khamsin winds made life almost unbearable, and bathing was the one resource, for even bridge became too strenuous a game, though nap was played occasionally by the energetic ones.

On June 19 the Division was ordered north to take over from the 11th Division the El Ferdan Section, the central section of the Canal zone, midway between Ismailia and Kantara. The move was completed by the end of the month. The 7th and 8th Lancashire Fusiliers took over the defences at Ballah, a station on the Canal, and the 5th and 6th Lancashire Fusiliers at Ballybunnion, a desert post about six miles to the east. The 6th and 8th Manchesters and the 126th Brigade were stationed at El Ferdan and Abu Uruk, about five miles north-east of El Ferdan. The artillery was split up among the posts, the 210th Brigade at Ballah and the 211th at El Ferdan, and during this period the howitzer batteries were rearmed with 4·5 Q.F. howitzers. The 1st Field Company, R.E., was at Ballah and Ballybunnion; the 2nd Field Company at Abu Uruk, and the recently arrived 3rd Field Company at Ferdan, where were also the 2nd and 3rd Field Ambulances. The Division was now occupying the ground where, according to tradition, the Israelites crossed the Red Sea. The 5th and 7th Manchesters went as far north as Kantara, where they were attached to the 52nd Division, and the friendship with the Lowland Scots, begun and cemented in Gallipoli, was here revived. They also took over posts from the 11th Manchesters, the first of the “Kitchener” battalions of their own regiment.

The Engineer-in-Chief, Major-General H. B. Wright, called to his aid the engineers of the Egyptian Government. Civil contractors, labour and plant were brought down to the Canal and material was requisitioned from all parts of the globe—from Australia, timber and wire-netting, the latter to be used for road-making over the loose sand; from India, water-pipes, matting and meat-safes; reed-matting from the Sudan; the whole of her stock of Decauville (two-foot gauge) railway material from Egypt; engines and pumps from England; and from the United States, through Mr. J. Pierpont Morgan, a shipload of water-pipes which were so precious as to require a cruiser as escort. It was, however, upon the R.E. of the Division and Corps that the brunt of the work fell, though it might almost be said that the whole Division was temporarily transformed into a corps of engineers. The system of communication maintained by the Divisional Signal Company was extensive, all posts and outlying positions being connected with Headquarters by cable, often buried in the sand for many miles, and by visual signalling. Also all posts had their own system of inter-communication by telephone. Though the great heat continued during the six weeks in this section there was often a cool breeze on the higher ground, and conditions generally were far preferable to those prevailing in the dusty, fiery atmosphere of Suez.

Toward the end of July information was received that a large enemy force, led by German officers, and armed with German and Austrian artillery and machine-guns, was moving, with a rapidity that was surprising when the difficulties of the march of an army across the desert are realized, westwards from El Arish. Before long aircraft located Turkish troops at Oghratina Hod—a hod being a plantation of date-palms—about ten miles east of Romani, held by the 52nd Division. Aerial activity increased on both sides, and traffic swarmed on the Romani road. The Turks meant to force a fight in the worst possible season for British troops, and their march across the desert was a notable military achievement.

It was now decided to transform the 8th Corps, of which the 42nd Division formed part, into a Mobile Column, under Major-General the Hon. H. A. Lawrence (a former Brigadier of the 127th Brigade) for operations in the desert east of the fortified posts. Camels were to be provided to carry all stores, such baggage as was absolutely necessary, engineering, material, food, ammunition, and water. Kit was cut down to the bare minimum. Wheeled transport was removed as useless, and gun-carriages and limbers were fitted with pedrails and equipped with extended splinter-bars to allow four animals to pull abreast, each team consisting of twelve horses. Sand-carts and camel cacolets would be provided for the R.A.M.C., and for the engineers new equipment for well-sinking on an extensive scale, with camels to carry the well-lining materials, troughs, pumps, tools, etc.

In the last week of July the Division was hurriedly ordered north to Kantara, the El Ferdan and Ballah area being handed over to the 54th Division and the 3rd Australian Light Horse Brigade. On the 29th and 30th of July the Mobile Column scheme was issued to unit commanders in rough outline, details being left to them. A Base Depot was formed at Ballah for the R.A. of the Mobile Force, and A Battery, 210th Brigade, and certain Ammunition Column details remained at the depot. The horse transport of the remainder of the Division and the heavier baggage were left at the base camp at Kantara.

The 127th Brigade, now complete, as the 5th and 7th Manchesters had rejoined, was the advance brigade at Hill 70. On July 31 it moved forward along the new railway to Gilban, together with the Divisional Squadron, a battery of the 212th Brigade, R.F.A., the 3rd Field Company, R.E., and the 3rd Field Ambulance. On the evening of August 3 the 6th Manchesters proceeded to Pelusium, near the coast and six miles north-west of Romani, to prepare defensive works east of the railway line, and to cover the detraining of the rest of the Brigade. Early in the morning of August 4 the sound of artillery fire from the direction of Romani announced that the Turkish attack had begun. The remainder of the Brigade was hurriedly ordered to Pelusium, and at 3.27 p.m., as the last battalion was detraining, Brig.-General Ormsby received the order to march at once in support of the Anzacs, who were heavily engaged in the neighbourhood of Mount Royston, to the south of Romani. At 3.30 p.m., within three minutes of receipt of the order, the 5th, 7th, and 8th Manchesters moved off without any transport—as none of the camels had arrived—and also without their dinners, the stew which had been prepared for them being left untouched. They passed through the 6th Manchesters, who were ordered to remain in their positions covering Pelusium, in order to escort and assist in organizing the expected camel transport. Artillery, cavalry, and engineer detachments arrived at Pelusium and moved forward, but nothing was seen or heard of the camels until 11 p.m., when two long files, each of 1000 camels, turned up. It was pitch dark, the transport was new to the Division, and the task of sorting out the animals, allocating them to the various units, loading them with fanatis, rations, ammunition and blankets, was a stupendous one. But the 6th Manchesters understood what every moment’s delay in delivering the goods—especially the water—might mean to their comrades, and they put their backs into it. By 4 a.m. the camel convoys for the 127th Brigade and the attached troops had been despatched on their trek into the desert, and the 6th Manchesters had moved off to rejoin their Brigade.

The Turkish army numbered about 18,000 men, including 4000 in reserve, and was well equipped. The soldiers had been assured that during the great Fast of Ramadan they should destroy the infidel and march victoriously into Egypt. But General Lawrence, whose cavalry and aircraft had been in touch with the advancing army since July 21, had made very thorough preparations for its reception, and the Battle of Romani was fought strictly in accordance with his plans, the enemy conforming with pleasing docility to the tactics he laid down for them. General Lawrence had a large force of artillery, cavalry, and infantry in an entrenched camp at Romani, secured on the north by the sea, and conspicuously protected on its eastern and southern fronts by strong redoubts and entrenchments. The south-western front, being left open ostentatiously, invited attack. The enemy could not ignore the force at Romani and march on towards Kantara and Dueidar, where the 42nd Division and two brigades of cavalry were stationed, as they would then be taken in rear and flank by the troops from Romani and in front by the Kantara force. They fell into the trap. Their aircraft reported the strength of the British position to the east and south of Romani and its apparent weakness to the south-west. On the night of August 3 they had attacked the cavalry outposts to the south of the camp, and had slowly driven them in. On the morning of the 4th they made a strong feint, with the greater part of their artillery, against the redoubts held by the 52nd Division on the east, while their main body moved to the south-west to attack the front that had been invitingly left open. The Anzac Light Horse, withdrawing slowly and skilfully, and now fighting on foot, led them on until they were involved among the sandhills, and at noon the cavalry and R.H.A. from Dueidar closed in from the south-west. The attacks on Katib Gannit, held by the 52nd, had now been repulsed with heavy loss by the Lowlanders, and it was at this stage that Major-General Chauvel, commanding the Anzacs, asked that the 127th Brigade might be sent with all speed to help “mop up” the Turk, who so far had been fighting stoutly as usual.

To return to the 127th Brigade. The three battalions had set off immediately the order was received, the 5th and 7th Manchesters leading. Heavy though the going was under the pitiless desert sun, they arrived upon the scene sooner than the Anzac commander had thought possible. As they drew near they could see the Turkish shrapnel bursting above the Anzacs, who, now that reinforcements were at hand, regained their horses and began to mass for a charge or pursuit. At about 2000 yards from the enemy position the leading battalions extended into lines, the 7th on the left, the 5th on the right. But the Turk did not wait. Worn out as he was by the marching and fighting of the past few days, the sight of the new British troops moving steadily towards him, line after line in regular waves, shook his faith in the assurance of victory. As the Manchesters attacked the ridge of Mount Royston the Battle of Romani was over. Those Turks who doubted their ability to get away in safety held up their white sandbags in token of surrender, seven officers and 335 men, with many horses, mules, rifles, and much ammunition falling into the hands of the Brigade. The Anzac cavalry accounted for the rest of the Turkish force at Mount Royston, having swept round the hill and cut off the retreat. Hundreds of Turks were seen being rounded up and marched back by a handful of troopers.

It was a great and decisive victory, in which, though the 42nd Division had played only a minor part, their share had been most opportune. The 127th Brigade had entered at exactly the right moment, and their march across three miles of deep, loose sand, under a blazing sun, in the hottest season, coming into action within one hour thirty-three minutes of receiving the order at Pelusium, was a noteworthy performance, which richly merited the following letter from the G.O.C., Anzac Mounted Division—

The Turk had been decisively beaten, and on August 4 the menace to the Canal had passed, and it was now our turn to take the offensive. That evening plans were made to follow up the success by a forward move which, though slow and wearisome at first, and discouraging in its second stage, finally developed into the brilliant campaign in Palestine and Syria under Allenby, with its amazing succession of shattering victories.

The Manchesters rested after their toilsome march as best they could, with little food and water, until 3.30 a.m., when they stood to, awaiting the order to advance. It was, perhaps, fortunate that this was delayed in transmission as, while they waited, a string of camels laden with fanatis was sighted. There was no food, but the omission passed unheeded in the delight of obtaining water, though the supply was only enough to allow three-quarters of a bottle to each man. This small ration had to be husbanded carefully, for it might have to last them the whole or the greater part of the day.

By 7 a.m. on the 5th the 127th Brigade was on the move. During the night the enemy had retired to Hod-el-Enna, where he was holding a line northward toward Katib Gannit. The 42nd Division was ordered to advance and envelop the Turkish left flank in conjunction with the mounted troops, the Anzac Mounted Division operating on their left, and the 5th Mounted Brigade on the right, linking up with the 3rd Australian Light Horse. The 125th Brigade, which had arrived at Pelusium on the previous evening, had made an early start in the small hours of the morning, and was now on the left, the 127th Brigade being on the right, and the 126th Brigade in Corps Reserve at Pelusium. The heat, especially in the valleys, was stifling, and many men were sunstruck or completely prostrated by the heat. Souvenirs picked up earlier in the day—Turkish bayonets, swords, belts—were quickly discarded. The heavy, yielding sand greatly hindered the horse-drawn guns of the 212th Brigade, R.F.A., and for the same reason the cable wagons could not keep up, the teams being utterly exhausted. The Divisional Squadron reached Mount Royston at noon, after patrolling the railway line throughout the previous night, and they too had to halt for a time, the horses being badly in need of rest, food and water. In the evening the squadron arrived at Hod-es-Seifania, together with a hundred troopers of the Bikanir Camel Corps. The infantry gained their objectives, and on the ridge of higher ground saw the cavalry pursuing the Turks and our guns flinging shrapnel among them. Out at sea, a monitor, looking like a toy boat, could be seen bombarding the enemy positions—first a flash, then after a long interval the roar of the great gun, then an ear-splitting explosion among the fleeing Turks. The Division now held the line Hod-el-Enna to Mount Meredith, and cavalry patrols reported that the enemy rearguard was holding the line Bir-el-Rabah—Katia—Bir-el-Mamluk. The 125th Brigade on the left and the 127th on the right rested for the night on Mount Meredith and Mount Royston, and the number of Turkish dead lying on these hills showed how heavy had been the casualties. The evening was cool—in fact, the night was even chilly after the extreme heat of the day. There was little to eat or drink. The news came that Katia was to be taken next day, that the enemy was holding the oasis basin strongly, and that the march to Katia would be more exacting even than those of the past two days. The prospect was not alluring, for there was no sign of water to replenish the empty bottles, many of the native transport drivers having been stampeded by enemy shell fire. The prospect of an advance across the desert without food or water was far more alarming than the Turk, however strong might be his position and his numbers. Thirsty, hungry, and exhausted the men of the two brigades scooped hollows in the sand and snatched a few hours sleep.

At 3 a.m. on August 6 the infantry with the 1st and 3rd Field Companies, R.E., were preparing to move, each man wondering if he would be able to hold out, when a beatific vision of distant fantasse-laden camels was hailed with rapture. The pestiferous oont is an ungainly beast, with disgusting manners and a vile temper, but there are moments when one could almost wish that he would allow himself to be caressed, and this was one of such occasions. Though the allowance of water was disappointingly small, there being barely a pint per head, still it made all the difference to the spirit of the troops. The start was made at 4 a.m., the 42nd Division on the right, the 52nd on the left, with cavalry on both flanks. Viewed from a ridge, the advance on Katia was picturesque. The plain was covered with long lines of infantry, mounted troops on the flanks, batteries of field-guns with traction-engine wheels hauled through the sand by huge teams of horses. Far away to the rear came endless strings of grunting, bubbling camels, and miles in front, a tantalizing sight, lay the green oases that brought to mind the desert pictures of childhood. The prediction that the march would be more exhausting than any yet attempted proved only too true, and officers who had been through the worst of the Gallipoli campaign, and at a later date had eighteen months’ experience of trench and open warfare in Flanders and France, declare that they have known nothing to surpass in horror the sufferings of the 127th Brigade on the 6th of August, 1916. The 125th Brigade, moving by a more direct route, reached the shade of the Katia oases in the forenoon, and found that the Turk had not awaited their coming. But while the Fusiliers rested there, the Manchesters were still trudging wearily through the soft sand, every step seeming to sink deeper and deeper, until it needed not only physical strength but also will-power to drag one’s legs along. In the depressions between the ridges there was not a breath of air. The sun grew more and more malignant, and the men became more and more dejected and taciturn. Hundreds collapsed from sunstroke, or because every ounce of energy they had possessed had been expended. The instructions to husband the meagre allowance of water had been explicit, and every one knew that the bottles could not be replenished until Katia should be reached. It was forbidden to drink without first obtaining the permission of the platoon or unit commander, and the best results were obtained where the officers insisted firmly on exact obedience to this order. The men behaved splendidly, and even when their powers of endurance seemed to have reached the limit, they forced themselves heavily and listlessly onward, stedfastly resisting the ever-increasing temptation to drink. A regimental Medical Officer described their appearance as “that of men being gradually suffocated, their faces turning a dusky blue; they were panting for breath and falling unconscious on the track. All that could be done was to try to collect them in groups and place their heads under any low scrub that could be found.” At one spot the torture was most cruelly augmented by an unfulfilled hope of relief. The sight of great quantities of attractive fruit, outwardly resembling oranges, was hailed with hoarse cries of delight. The “oranges” were seized upon ravenously, and in a few cases bitten into—and thrown away with curses. It was that most bitter of fruits, calumba—bitter as the disappointment it had caused, for the prospect of allaying the agonizing thirst intensified the anguish. Then it was that the officers, who were in no better case than their men but were upheld by their sense of responsibility, silently blessed him whom they had so often found occasion to curse, the “funny man” of the platoon or company. Luckily these men are to be found in every British unit, and when things are at their worst they extract humour from hardship until even the most despondent begin to feel less depressed.

As they struggled gamely on General Douglas rode from company to company to cheer them with the news that more than 3000 prisoners and a vast quantity of material had already been captured, and to show the men that their commander recognized the strain to which they were being subjected, and appreciated the gallant response they were making. About midday an oasis, a mile from Katia, was sighted, and men staggered on towards the trees and the hoped-for water. But there was no sign of water. Rumour quickly passed from man to man that water lay within two feet of the surface; and distressing scenes were witnessed of men half mad with thirst desperately digging into the sand with entrenching tools and even bare hands in a vain attempt to find water. Fortunately the camels arrived an hour later bringing an allowance of a pint for each man, and undoubtedly this saved many lives.

Refreshed by the water and a lie down in the shade, parties of volunteers went forth into the hateful desert again, in spite of their great fatigue, to seek out and bring in those who had fallen by the way. Through the night desultory rifle fire in front told that the cavalry were still in touch with the Turkish rearguard, who had put up a good fight at Oghratina, and managed to get away most of their guns and transport, though followed and harassed by the R.H.A. and cavalry as far as Salmana. Complete victory had crowned the operations, as the following figures show—

The captured material included a complete Krupp Mountain Battery with 400 rounds of ammunition, 9 German machine guns with 32 extra barrels, 30 boxes of belt ammunition, and 9 shields, 2300 rifles, 1,000,000 rounds Small Arm Ammunition, large numbers of pack saddles, sandbags, clothing, equipment, rockets, barbed wire, stretchers, tools, swords, etc.; one aeroplane engine and 3 petrol tanks, 100 mules and horses and 500 camels.

The following telegram was received from H.M. the King—